“There are places…”

“There are places I’ll remember, all my life, though some have changed…” – Lennon & McCartney

Today as I walked in Oakland between rain storms – we’ve been promised a winter with lots of rain! – I was remembering places in my life.

I remember the walk from 11 and Ring to 9 and Ring Street as I made my way to kindergarten at LaFollette Primary School – I didn’t know then that I was beginning the walk to a life different from the one I had been born into. I didn’t know then that the teachers who taught me would not only open the doors for me to another world, but that I saw in them – and remember – women unlike my mother. And I saw myself in them.

I remember the evening I sat as the dark came on at the Mathilda Brown Home on 42 Street – behind Oakland Tech – in Oakland, as I sat in the dark beside my mother’s bed, and where she would die the next day. As I sat there, a song filled my mind: “how can I help to make you understand, why I do, what I do? Going away to a distant land, far from the home I love…” (Bock/Harnick, from Fiddler on the Roof).

I remember walking along Piedmont Avenue in Oakland on Halloween Night over a year ago as little Celeste held onto my hand, dressed in her princess costume, and as we passed the other children out to reap the Halloween bounty from the store fronts. She was quiet, careful to stay connected to me in this place, so far from her home.

I remember that I’m an old person now as I passed a man with wrinkles who walked slowly, and as he met my eyes with his own and greeted me, another neighbor from the neighborhood. I’ve changed. He’s changed. But inside of us, we are the same as we’ve always been.

I remember that soon Christmas will be here, and I’ll try to make the house in Oakland cozy, something that’s hard to come by in this temperate climate. And as I sit in the darkened room in front of the Christmas tree with lights shining out from its branches, I’ll remember Christmases past, a long time ago now, a lifetime ago.

I remember as I walk close to home, that I am grateful for this beautiful place, this temperate climate, this lull in the morning’s showers, this air so fresh in my lungs, this place that is home to me, and has been for a long time.

Some of these memories I’ve held onto for many years, as if I can see in my mind’s eye every passing moment. Some of these memories will be gone soon, maybe never to come again. I’m sad. I miss them already.

I remember that this beautiful tree has been a faithful, beautiful companion to me for a long time. Photo by Mary Elyn Bahlert, 11/2024